


Soulmates

by JellyFicsnFucks



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Amputation, Begging, Blood As Lube, Blood and Injury, Blood and Torture, Blood and Violence, Body Horror, Come Inflation, Corrupted soul, Crying, Destroying worlds, Force-Feeding, Forced Healing, Forced Orgasm, Kidnapping, Maiming, Mass Murder, No happy endings, Rape/Non-con Elements, Sensory Deprivation, Soulmates, Stockholm Syndrome, Strangulation, Torture, Vomiting, everyone dies
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-03
Updated: 2019-02-03
Packaged: 2019-10-21 14:57:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 5
Words: 17,161
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17644982
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JellyFicsnFucks/pseuds/JellyFicsnFucks
Summary: After one of their many fights, Error attempts to land the finishing blow on Ink- Ending their battle forever... but something makes him hesitate. ...Their health is exactly the same. "If I kill you will we both disappear?"THIS STORY IS RATED E, PLEASE READ TAGS! 18+ only. ITS REALLY MESSED UP~ No happy endings here.





	1. Meeting

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry for being gone from this fandom for so long.  
> I've taken some stories with me when I left, so please excuse the mess while I re-upload old work. (_'-')_[=]

There were spots across the ice. Small pink pools of blood descending into the freshly fallen snow. The underground had long since been evacuated from this timeline. Without civilians, Ink was able to fight fully here, on par with Error for once. And yet, his full strength was not enough.

He could not fight Error.

He could not talk him out of his murder spree. Nor could he stop the range of torment that would continue to plague multiple universes. His end nearing, health flickering to single digits. Units to weigh less than the breath he heaved, he fell to a knee. Unbalanced and out of breath, he falls forward. Bloodied nose, rubbing against the sheets of ice, coloring them in a hue of sweet cherry blossoms. The color of Spring. Of life. Of rebirth.

Ink parts his eyes closed for a moment. How wondrous it would be to face death with the thing he most sought in front of him. How glorious the color of rose, the color of blood, the meaning of a heartbeat that swelled with life and yet threatened to die out at once in this cold wasteland. Done his part to protect it, best he could, he lays to rest; crestfallen is he, when he hears the crunch of boots come wander towards his helm.

“Already outta steam, Inky?” The arrogant laugh above makes a show of only the divide between them. Foolishness. Ink thought. How could he believe he would be on par with one who had destroyed worlds? One whose Love was years higher than that of any before him. Worse than the most violent human. Worse than the thousands who had died in wars to seal monsters.

“What? Got nothing to say for yourself? Nothing about how… ‘justice will always prevail’ and ‘I know your good inside!’ Bullshit? Ha.” His imitations sound nothing like Ink. They make a mockery of his tone, sounding like a prepubescent's child would. Boots now adrift with snow, take flight to stomp, crush, grate bone against the ground. Ink screams, his hand like daggers, betraying the sensitive tactile of touch to pain.

He did not want this. He did not want to make Error into the monster he was.

If only they had met sooner in that empty void… perhaps Error would call him brother.

9hp.…

Perhaps they would be friends.

In the thousands of universes, Ink had crossed he once came upon a version of himself and Error, who leisured in the sun and fought with only blades of grass. Tossed gently in the wind. Dirt and mud, much softer blows without much hatred behind them. Slight annoyance. Slight animosity. Never anything that would warrant death. Ink stayed there for few hours… envious of the loss of a brother.

8hp. He’d always been envious.

Through the passing of each new au he would always find that a Sans had a Papyrus. A brother for a brother. Even in universes where only one version remained, it was an advent that occurred because of an accident. A massacre, a fusion, a mistake… There was never a time outside of Error and Ink that the brothers were... without a brother.

There was an infinite number of realities out there. .. An infinite number of Sans and Papyrus and every version in between. The worlds seemed so few that he could protect… and yet so many that he often felt lost among the mass of it all. He’d explored so much. He’d laugh so much. He’d cry so much.

7hp… Was this the end?

It was a good end then. To be able to see so many worlds, such happy monsters that filled the silence of a void with new colors, pictures, gifts, and memories. Ink smiles, biting back the groan of pain threatening to ring out from his bare teeth into the base of his skull. His teeth pull at the ground. Damp dirt, hidden beneath the snow. Hard, frozen. Uncared for. Unloved.

He lived a good life, didn’t he? It didn’t start that way… but he made so many friends. His only regret was that… looking up, at the blackened like char bones and blue and red markings of drip from his eyes… yes. His only regret was that he couldn’t save him. Couldn’t have the brother he always yearned for.

6 hp.

Error doesn’t even try to humor him with a quick death. Instead, joy found in grinding his heel down into the other's spine. Lowering him to the earth like the pathetic monster Ink knew he was. He was pathetic for his cowardice. For always running … instead of dealing with Error and now he’d grown too strong. Too impossible to beat.

And yet… if that were the case, why now does a glimmer of hope shine through? Ink stares up through bloodied teeth and broken fingers. Eyes, intent on scanning the other. He’d hardly landed a fatal blow on the other. How could he? But Error’s health was low. Almost the same as his. No, no. It was the same.

If Error had felt any damage to his soul he didn’t show it. He attacks relentlessly, a few scratches here and there, a bit out of breath but he was nowhere near as ruined as Ink. And yet, curiously it stood out.

5 hp.

They both bare the same number as Inks health dips again, a rough kick to his side.

This wasn’t right… it couldn’t possibly be.

But it was true. The correlation was too strong to deny on the verge of death. He had to stop this. He puts up his hands, once a shield but now a desperate plea for attention.

“Error! Wait!”

He didn’t expect to get such quick results from his assailant. Error bends by his side, crouching like a gargoyle over him. Head turned, poised to listen to the quieted deathly whispers of the other. It pleased him, their game of cat and mouse finally ending. He relished in this moment. Wanted to linger in it forever. So his mercy now seems strange. A smirk so wide on his face, Ink could have sworn it would zip off his entire head.

“You got something to say Inky?” Error teases. “Want to beg while I kill – “

“STOP!” Ink clutches onto his ribs, finding relief in the moment to bend into pain that had once gone numb. His missing ribs cracked and laid scattered around Snowdin. “Error. Your health… my heafth… ‘ished linktd!” He coughs up blood onto the snow banks. From his body, normally spurs of ink would heave, but now only blood spills. His magic is exhausted, his life waning.

Error gives this a thought, smirk widening as his strings wrap through Ink's ribcage, tightening in both directions. All Ink can think of is no. Stars no. Not again. Not again. Errors ability to control the tension of strings was as strong as iron coupled with his magical prowess. The strings pull, tugging against each other and in turn pulling the bones to curve and warp to the pressure. Ink arches his back, sprawling onto his stomach as the strings snap together and pull apart bone. A thunder-like sound of cracking bone, reverberating through his nerves. 4hp.

“Well, what do you know… It is true.” Error hums. “Or maybe that’s a cute trick you got me trying to believe. How did my health get so low without me noticing? Maybe we should test it again..”

“NO!” Ink cries. He can barely see straight. Vision blurred, ick of tear crust lidding over his eye sockets. He buries his head into the ground. Rubbing his face into the melted snow and dirt and mud. Chanting it again and again. “No. no. no. no. no. no. no. no. no.no.no.nooooue.” Until his voice is muddled over with nothing but the whining string of pain.

“Heh…” Error snaps his fingers, directs a length of twine around Inks neck and hoists him up to eye level. Ink struggles for air, both hands clamping at the rope to aid his breath; his broken fingers just slide through, his blood a lubricant for it. “Still struggling right? Is that because of determination? Hope? Love? Ha… Ink. You’ve been a thorn in my side for a long time. You have no idea how glad I am to see you go—oh?” He tilts his head to look at the status of the other. 3 hp.

Internally he looks at his own health. 3hp.

It had changed.

“Oh?” Error stilts a nervous chuckle. He raises a brow at the number. Questioning its validity. He strikes Ink once across his face, the closed fist enough to bruise through bone but with less intent than an actual strike with a weapon. 2 hp.

They both sit at the precarious number.

Ink can barely talk, barely keep his eyelids open. His hands have stopped scraping for air, instead, they hand limply at his side when Error drops him.

“Seems we are linked.” Error muses out loud. At this point, he’s unsure if Ink can still hear him. So he says it for himself, talking through the confusion that pops through his head without a filter. “We share the same health? Is it because we were both born in the void? Both a Sans without a Pap? Ha. … Same soul? No, that’s silly, isn’t it?

It would be so easy to kill you… and I feel fine. I won’t be fooled by your cheap tricks. I wonder if killing you will undo the bullshit you’ve applied to me?

What is this? Some sort of illusion caused by your ink? No? Well… you’re too far gone to control that aren’t you. Heh… so what is this? If I kill you first can I rid myself of this horrible status effect?

If I kill you will we both disappear? ANSWER ME SHITFACE!” He kicks Ink again, health dropping to 1.

His health drops at the same rate. The single digit mocking him, teasing him with doubts. Killing the other was a dream come true. A very real reality that he could make come true in an instant. On the other hand… death was bad. Very bad. Ink didn’t look to be the type to set up a trap early in the battle for this moment. Surely if the other were hiding an ace up his sleeve it wouldn’t be a mutual death card.

Error takes a moment back to consider this. He was smart. Smart enough to learn the structure of Aus, and manipulate monsters to destroy it for him. If their health decreased at the same rate… it should increase too.

He paces backward, slashing down a tree with a single whip of his magic. Strings cut through like butter and the great oak, probably standing for decades, slides off its base to topple forward. Caught in the branches of another tree, tangled.

Error sits there, on the stump of the great oak, contemplative.

Ink lies on the ground, a bloody pulp of himself, uncensored by the usual array of colors that would pour from his wounds. Clothes were torn, the utility belt full of empty vials, his paintbrush nowhere to be found. It was left on another world, broken in two when they had hopped between universes, an asset in battle.

“Fucking heal yourself, you’re a mess.” Error sits on the sidelines, yelling at the wounded warrior on the floor, on the verge of unconsciousness. Error waits waits to see if this was true. Was their health the same? Was this some last-ditch effort for a trap? He doesn’t know but dammit, he wants to find out. He wants to kill the son of a bitch once and for all but this new development fills him with unease.

“ca-nt.” Ink pushes himself over to his back, he gasps up at the pretty stone stars and snow falling from the constructed sky. The artificial light and weather were beautiful in its own right. “Heel-ling dussnt.” He hisses a breath through his broken teeth. The sound of a whistle is produced through the fracture. “..doessnt wurke ‘lyke… dat.” He spits up blood, collapsed ribcage buckling under its own weight. “Mon… sturs can’t heel. Can’t heal themselves.” Error winces. “Only… oth.. oth.. ers.”

“What are you trying to say Inky?” Error spits into the ground. “You can’t do it? I’m not giving you a choice. Heal yourself. Prove your stupid theory right.”

“…cannnt.” Ink groans. He heaves a breath. “Nuh..magic..anyway.” Error winces again, eye twitching.

“I’ll bring a healer.”

“DON’T! … THEy- they can’t cross the … worlds like… us. Compli.. cated.”

“Then what the fuck do you want, Ink? I can’t kill ya! I can’t move ya! If I shove a portal under you, you’ll fall and lose your only digit of health. You want me to believe we have the same health- FINE! I believe you. For now! How do you propose I test your stupid idea huh? Or are you just biding time so I can’t end you right now? “

Ink mumbles incoherent words. Head lolling from side to side.

Error sucks in a breath, grimacing at the thought crossing his mind. Monsters can only heal others. … He didn’t know that. Then again, there’s lots of stuff he didn’t know … so little information can be shared when monsters usually screamed for their life during their short meetings.

He looks at his health. A single digit. No buffer of sleep or food to add to the status boost. Though Error felt fine, felt healthy in comparison to the worm on the floor. Would killing Ink also kill himself? Even though he felt great… far away from falling down, he didn’t want to take that chance. Why risk his own life? Besides… it was a theory yet to be tested fully.

He flexes his fingers. Dexterous phalanges capable of splitting boulders in two and yet careful enough to puppet around monsters. But… he’d never healed before. He had no need too. Healing was a way to create and preserve life… and that was the furthest thing Error wanted. He wanted to erase everything. Everyone. Yet here he was, thinking he could weave a small healing burst of magic to his fingertips… enough for a test.

If the other's health went up… fluctuated without his own responding then he’d know it was a lie. A trap. … He’d kill Ink on the spot.

“Fine… crawl here.” Error commands, but the act is impossible for Ink to do alone. He can barely breathe, holding his ribcage together with cracking fingers, numb in the ice. Error groans. He stands up from his seat and kneels by Ink. “Summon your shitty soul. You can do that much can’t you?”

Ink nimbly nods his head. Soul fading into existence. Solidifying inside his broken chest cavity. The hue of his magic, multiple hues of changing and pulsating light, is cracked… Hues of browns, purples, and blacks start to bleed through sponging up color along the sides of each fracture.

Nervous hands rise to the soul, pulling it from ribs and holds it. Error had become familiar with his own soul. It was similar to Ink’ but different too. His own soul also shifted hues of colors, like mercury in a lava lamp though its tones were always the same blue and dark tones of his magic. 

He’d seen other monsters souls shatter, countless times. But in death, all souls turned pale, white like the ghosts of anguish before shattering. This was different though. A live soul, one that required care. Error snorts. He pushes the volt of magic at the soul, but his brute force only makes Ink scream.

The scream pierces through Errors skull, so close he feels like his head is gonna tear in two. “Shut up!” He grinds his teeth. Small digits of health returned and lost from the violent act.

.9 hp

1 hp.

1.2 hp

1.1 hp. And it sits there. Both their status calmed. Error pauses, hitching his breath to withhold a groan. Their health was linked… without any lag, their souls beat as one and bled as one. The silly theory proved to be right.

But now he couldn’t even repair the damage he’d done. He sighs a long breath.

He could do this. His fingers had stitched together tapestries and webs more elaborate than anything Muffet could come up with. He’d destroyed more worlds than Frisk with a swipe of his hand. He’d manipulated and puppet monsters to kill each other for the damn sport of it. He could do something as simple as heal. Every monster could. He presses forward again, unsure how to go about rubbing the green glow of magic into the soul.

Did he press his thumb into it? Like an injection through the soul?

Was he supposed to massage it onto the surface?

Was he supposed to hold his magic over the soul and hope it took to the radiation?

Hell… was the green glow even healing magic? It was the first time he’d mustered up the ability.

Slowly. Awkwardly he tries and fails at each method. Using Inks endless screams as a gauge for what was right and wrong. Until Ink can’t take it anymore. He grabs Errors hands in his, stopping him from touching his soul.

“What the fuck is it now?! I’m trying to heal you! Okay?”

“Mon… sters. “ Ink tries to sit up. “They’re… made .. of … “

“ Yeah, yeah. Love kindness. Bullshit. I got it. Why the fuck are you giving me this lecture now-!” And it clicks for Error. The healing magic failed to work because he didn’t care. He cared about himself. About his own health not dropping. He only healed Ink to save his own ass. Only did it to prove a point, but forcing the magic to take shape and work wasn’t the same as directing it with the raw emotions that brought it forth.

Healing magic was supposed to be used to save monsters. The stronger the bond… the stronger the effects. Healers had big hearts. Loved to help others and their magic showed their kind and gentle ways…

Error was anything but gentle… kind…

His thoughts are not in any way friendly towards Ink. He just can’t keep his mind off of killing the other. He wants to end him… wants to kill him … but now … things are complicated. Strange and a hindrance to his plans.

1.4 hp. This was a pathetic amount of health restored for someone of his greatness. Even a Tem could heal 2 hp at a time. Then again… the idiots would keep a hardboiled egg as a pet, hoping to hatch the damned thing.

“You’re saying I gotta give a fuck to heal you? Fucking stupid… “ Error turns his head away. He looks outward to the forest. “I’ll get you to 5 and you can fucking get home yourself.” The snowfall and darkening skies increase the wind off the mountains. “Do I gotta find a reason to care about you? Stuff I like about you? Let's see… you don’t die easily. That’s a fucking annoyance. But I mean… good for you. Guess that’s a … thing.”

There is a chill in the wind that picks up from being still this long but Ink is still warm. Fresh blood dripping from every cut. “You’re… warm. I guess.” Error thinks. “ That’s sorta pleasant. You don’t smell bad.”

“… heh.” Ink makes a small laugh.

“I really prefer your screams to your stupid fucking laugh.” Error drones on. “You have a nice voice for screaming.” He tries again, guided by Inks hand to hover above the soul, fingers barely touching the surface. “Your hands are soft.” Error notes, surprised to have said it, corrects himself. “Like a little bitch. And, you are stupidly fragile. Like a damn doll.”

“You sew … .. right?” Ink, whispers. “I’ve seen… small ragdolls… in the void… did you-?”

“Shut up. You’re delusional.” Error tilts his head back and looks at the cave ceiling. Ugh. Too much stuff. Too many colors. Too many impurities. That lamp post should be over there. That house should be in Hotland. That restaurant should be a bar. None of this matches the original and none of these should exist.

He looks down at his work. It felt foreign, felt weird to… heal. Almost at two now. Ink wasn’t screaming in agony if that was any indication of progress. His own health was rising too. He’ll leave ink here and retreat back to his side of the void. Eat something, sleep it off. Ink can do the same … far away from Error.

Geez… If he can’t kill him how will their future fights pan out?

…

He could maim him.

Once his health is stable enough. Then he’ll be alive… incapable of fighting back.

Eh… incapable of eating.. or running away. Pretty lame. The idiot might end up starving to death. That raised new questions. If Ink starved to death, while Error ate… which one of them would affect their status? Would the food Error ate, ensured that Ink wouldn’t starve? Would the lack of food forcibly end Errors life? He hated to think of that possibility now.

“Agn.. hurts.. a bit… “

“Yeah, yeah… happy thoughts.” Error mumbles. “ I like…. How… uhhhhh….”

“-… as flattering as … this is… Error. You… can just… ya know. Think of what makes you happy. .. Healers… don’t generally know-guh- their patients. “

“Good, cuz I fucking hate your guts. I’m running out of piss poor excuses to like you. “Think of what makes him happy? Large… white … emptiness. The void made him happy. Void made him feel safe. In the vastness of its confines, Error had thought he was the only one there. It was scary at first… but a comfort when he discovered what a horrifying place the other universes were. The void never changed. It was always the same. The white slab of comfort where he could sit in a corner and barricade himself off from everything…

“Wow… Error. You’re … a natural.” Ink comments. “I knew you… could do it…if you tried.”

Error looks onward, revolted at the jump in health from two all the way now to thirteen. Ink is still a bloody mess of his own broken bones but now he appears to be smiling… as if those cracked ribs meant nothing. Error stands back up, chin held high.

“Fine, you’re healed enough. Go back to your shitty corner of the void and leave me alone.” Error opens up a portal to the void beneath his feet and slides into it, molasses-like to deliver a message. “If I see your smug face again, believe me, I won't offer this mercy again. This was circumstantial. I don’t care about you. I only did this for my own benefit.”

“Error?”

“What.”

“Thank you.”

Error shudders, slips into his corner of the void and closes the gate he opened. He sits there, in the vast comfort of nothings. Its warmer than Snowdin… always the same comfortable temperature. A place without wind… without weather, without change… Without stupid bloodshot smiles.

( Thank you.)

For what? Protecting his own interests? Killing Ink would be great… no asshole to get in the way of his plans… but killing himself in the process was… less than favorable. What other choice did he have? No. He should have ended him there. He shouldn’t have offered him mercy… or heal his enemy. Error collapses to a knee, sinking his head down to the floor and lets out a long groan.

He needed sleep. It would go a long way to help heal his hp. Though returning it back to the triple digits would be a pain. A nights sleep wouldn’t cover it, but it would help ease his tired bones. Geez, did Ink put up a fight… the bastard usually hid away… opting to evacuate his leftover rejects to someplace Error didn’t know where.

Damn. This time Ink fought. He stood his ground… and though he’d lost it was pretty fun. Up until the health thing… and then Ink actually smiled… with missing teeth and cracked ribs the asshole still- he still – believed in Error Those words left a bitter feeling in his gut.

“… idiot.”


	2. Kidnapping

Error woke in the typical way he had done a thousand times, with a growl from his stomach and a clench in his chest. Hunger pains to stir him awake. Sometimes things would fall into the void. When he was younger… it was one of the first signs things existed outside of this plane. It was also how he sustained himself. Drops of water… rotten food, it was rare a treat would drop through. Food wrappers he could lick clean. It was a couple of months before he learned how these things fell through and followed the tears to other worlds.

That was the one good thing about the mistake universes. Food. Something so precious and delicious was produced from the trash heaps of those fucked up worlds. Error often kept a stash of junk food around from one of his raids but judging by the peaceful nothingness around him he had probably already dumped the last of those wrappers in Underfell. All that remains in his corner of the void are some string he had to put up so he would stop knocking himself into the wall.

His stomach growls again, furious. Error rolls to his side and tries to ignore it, opting for more sleep. Though rest does not come easily when hunger ebbs away at his bones. Though his soul did not require food to manage to stay alive, the habit of eating had created a dependency on mealtimes and a hunger for when his health had drawn low. Like now.

He lazily checks on his own health, it felt pretty low still but he couldn't tell until he actually got a look at his own soul. He looks down through his clavicle and stares at the small churning orb os blacks and blues that formed his heart.

Health sat at a meager twenty. He guessed that by now Ink would have licked his wounds and healed himself, effectively healing them both but this was unsettling to him. Error had no clue how long he had slept but it must have been hours before his soul started to ache for food. Was Ink still…

Error shudders into himself, pulling his coat around his neck and stuffing both hands into this pockets. He didn't care about that asshole. He was only a well of problems. Can’t live with him… can’t live without him. Fuck. He didn't want to think about the colorful asshole so soon. He didn't need to check on him. He wasn't’ his babysitter… but what if Ink was still all alone in that dead au? What if he got a cold… left facedown in the snow to suffocate or freeze to death… would Errors health share that burden?

He grips the side of his skull as glitches start flashing across the inside of his eyelids. He blinked them away, quickly shaking his head to rid himself of those excess thoughts. There was no use in panicking! He would just hop on over, grab a snack…maybe check to see if Ink had moved and come straight back home to recover. There was no need to try to rationalize how their soul bond worked. It simply…. did.

Error, with a wave of his palm, opens a portal to the last au he had stepped foot in. The small tear in space showed the open forest, blood in the frost white snow. Nothing else yet. Cautiously, Error stepped through.

He spun around in a circle like a hound, searching for any trace of his prey. Ink was nowhere to be found. Some footprints, drug through the snow and smeared pink, showed he had gotten up and moved towards town.

Error follows the prints, spotting an eery welcome sign that spelled ‘Snowdyne’. The sign is coated in foliage as though it were meant to be hidden but still visible from the road. Something akin to a secret that everyone knew about. Smack dab in the center of it all is a bloody handprint.

Error follows the tracks in the snow easily, there is a spot up ahead surrounded by snow statues that had been desecrated by Ink. A gap in the lineup of snow people shows how Ink stumbled and fell into one of them before carrying himself off elsewhere.

Not that Error cared, his only prerogative was scavenging food from this wasteland and as luck would have it, he navigates himself to the restaurant in this au. It's a small Diner, called… ugh. Error can feel bile in his throat as he reads the sign out loud.

“Undyner.” He walks up the steps, mumbling under his breath- “This place deserves to be destroyed. Its no wonder why this place only sees a genocide route…” The interior of the small diner doesn't seem to be much different from Undyne’s home in waterfell. There is a piano set in the corner and laced doilies on top of every table. The floor is checkered in the pale nausea-inducing colors of off yellow and blue.

There are some new things, like the glass cases in the front of the store displaying an inventory of plastic food for sale. There are barstools along one side of the wall that face a large television and each row of stools and tables are steeped like a cramped in theatre. There’s also a trail of puddles and blood from the doorway to behind the counter leading to the kitchen.

Error holds in a groan but just as he does his soul aches for food. Running into the other was unavoidable, he might as well face it. He eases open the two-way kitchen door and takes a glimpse inside. The lights are on and smell of freshly baked bread. Pots and pans lay in the sink or on the stove, discarded in the evacuation of a genocide route. In the center of the isles between stoves and countertops Ink lies face down.

Error looks at the pitiful mess of his arch enemy. Ink had been in countless battles with him before but always managed to escape much to Errors ire. There was no better opportunity than now to end the pathetic whelps life… but Error held back. He was obligated by self-preservation to not harm the other.

“Stupid…. “ He steps over the bleeding wreck and makes his way towards a three-tier cake that was left abandoned. He doesn't bother to check the drawers for a fork, instead, he shovels food into his face to quickly fill up his health.

But it's not rising.

His health sits at a pathetic twenty, despite the cake having a restorative value of 25 a slice. Had he ever had this problem before? Error wasn’t sure, his health had never been this low before. Usually, he didn’t pay attention, it's lucky that Inky made him look before they both…

Error tilts his head at Ink, curious now. His own health wasn’t rising with food, but Ink’s health was his own. Could it be that his damage to both of them could only be undone by his revival? Error toes over to the other and crouches beside him, poking his face with a slab of chocolate cake.

“Eat.” He demands, prodding the cake between the others torn lip. “Eat. Stupid.” He mashes the cake against his mouth and chin, rubbing the chocolate stain anywhere it would fit. “Inky, get up dumbass. Eat. Eat. EAT THE FUCKING CAAKE!” He spreads the other's jaw apart and tries to shove food down his throat, which only startles Ink into coughing awake and panicked. He spots Error and at once tries to scramble away on his hands and knees but he doesn't get far before his ribs crack and he cries out in pain.

“Shut up. You’re already healed to twenty, surely you can’t fucking complain anymore, right? RIGht? Anyway- fucking eat. You're making me sick looking at your sorry mug.” He flings a flying projectile of frosting at the skeleton, making him shirk backward. Suddenly, his mind reels through the events that happened earlier. A recollection of why he was here passes through his face showing anger, grief, bitterness, sadness, a small smile turning at the tips of his mouth.

“Error… you-!! - you came back?”

“Shut your stupid face, I didn’t come here for you. Obviously.” He sits upon a countertop and drags his fingers through the side of the cake, flinging it once more at Ink. It lands at his feet with a wet splotch of sound. “You can eat that. Off the ground. Like the 'lil shit you are. Don’t get all sentimental and assume we’re 'chummy chummy' just because I came back to this crumbling au.”

Ink holds his side and backs up to lean against a stove. He looks around the kitchen for something, then back at Error. “What time is it?”

“How the hell should I know? Eat your ground cake and shut up.”

Ink shuffles to his feet but uses the stove as a railing, the oven door opens and Ink has to brace for his balance before he falls and joins the splatter of cake on the floor. Resuming his original purpose in the kitchen before he blacked out, Ink limps over to the fridge and grabs a desert. Then takes to the other side of the kitchen and sits parallel from Error on the counters. The two start to eat in silence.

Slowly, Error starts to notice the change in his own health and in Inks. It's odd for him, an uneasiness spreads through his bones as someone else manipulates his stats. He eats till his own hunger is quelled. Then stares over at Ink, watching, waiting for the others health to improve.

Error never paid much attention to Ink. Once, when they first met as kids, they had talked in their confinement of void. It didn’t last very long. Ink tried to show him an au he had visited. One that Error had destroyed. They fought with words, childishly. Then headed in opposite directions until they reached the ends of their world and each made a home there. They could have been friends but every time after they had fought. Always fighting… It had been a long time since the two could stand to be in the other's presence without throwing a punch.

This felt new. Unwelcome. Error hated it.

“Undy cooks really good stuff. Its a shame what happened to this world.”

“Undy?”

“An Undyne Grillby fusion. This au had a lot of potential.”

“...Captain Undy?”

“ … No the royal guard captain here was Papayne. A Papyrus and Undyne fusion. In its prime, this world was run by fusions of Undyne. They were nice folk. I came here sometimes… but its genocide route is one of the most horrible I’ve seen. All the inhabitants melt instead of dusting. Many civilians come back twice. The human plays here, as a super hard mode of the original. There’s never any pacifist timeline, even when its reset. It's a real shame.”

“The real shame here is that no one put these abominations out of their misery. Speaking of which, how long do you figure it will take for a reset?”

“Don't you dare.”

“Why? Heh… not like you can stop me. As weak as you are now… and without your silly paintbrush too. I may not be able to kill you but that doesn’t mean I’ll spare these wretched worlds. Besides… when all of them are gone we’ll be the last to go. Isn’t that perfect? Wouldn’t you like to live to see your little friends disappear?”

Each word sets Ink off with a fidget. He wants to defend the au’s and himself but his passive nature keeps him quiet, seething with his own rage and inability to act. Error slides down from his counter and approaches Ink, each footstep sets the other on guard. Before he knows it, Ink has already started to weave droplets of his own blood into color to use. Error doesn't back down though, rather, he finds the hostile act amusing. He pushes the attack to the side and enters Ink’s personal space.

“You know - I used to be afraid of your bullshit rainbow powers, but since you never had a real spine to begin with you’ve always done your best to run away rather than fight. … That's, not the case any more right? You can’t fight even if you want to. We’re both stuck with the same health. So why don’t you be a good boy and undo whatever magic curse this is.”

The two are within inches of each other's face, forcing eye contact and demanding attention Error grabs his scarf and pulls it forward. “Now- Inky.” His eye twitches, patience wearing thin. He wasn’t accustomed to using his voice this much in one day and it was putting a strain on his throat that made his words crack up in pitch. If Ink noticed, he doesn’t snicker or mock the other for it. He simply shakes his head, unable to comply with an impossible request.

“I didn’t fuse our health together… but… I think maybe its always been like this? It would explain a lot.”

“Like whUhT?”

“Like my health? I thought maybe it was just getting bigger with time but its because your LOVE value isn't it?” He looks down the bridge of his nasal bone at the hand gripping his scarf. The fingers weaved around the fabric begin to slacken. They thought of times in the past when it was odd to see how much the other had improved. Error had always wondered how the measly Lv 1 little shit was able to gather so much health…

Error sighs, releasing his grip on the scarf. He hated to admit it, but Inky was making sense. He wouldn’t know if their health was always the same, but it explained why Ink had triple digits worth of health.

“Can you… back off, please? You’re really too close Error.” Warily, Ink raises his fingers up through the folds in his scarf and grips the fist there. “It's okay to be afraid. We’ll work through this together and-!”

“Who the fUCK is afraid!?” Error snaps his hand back, the shriek in his voice echoes off pots and pans. He takes a step back and draws both fists to his sides. “I don't need your help! I don't need anyone’s help! Who the hell cares if we have the same health! That's not scary! That's not new! That changes nothing! You’re still in my fucking way! So now I just have to work around that!! That's all there is to it!”

Strings manifest from the ceiling, they drape down and ensnare Inks wrist to pull them tautly over his head. The cake is dropped to the floor and Error steps in it, drawing close to Ink again from where he once retreated.

“We both have to be alive. But I’m not going to waste this chance… I can finally get rid of you.”

But how? The question remained, it gnawed at the back of his throat and sent tremors through his fingertips. He had captured Ink so easily and the other was not fighting back. Perhaps thinking he was safe, all Ink does is look down on him from the bridge of his nose. It mimics a false arrogance. Something mocking Error. He hates the look. He hates the fact that Ink can still look at him in the eye, without trembling in fear. The other was powerless right now. No weapons, no stamina, barely any magic… health so close to the edge and yet untouchable.

But there were other ways to restrain Ink. And information he had wanted from him for ages. Error narrows his eyes, returning to the ideas he had dismissed earlier. Impulsive decisions that he begrudgingly decided against because there was that doubt he had lingering in his mind. With their health sitting at a comfortable sixty-something this was a good enough opportunity to test new things. 

“Error, what are you doing? Let me go.”

“No.” Error shuts down the other quickly, returning to the splayed thoughts across his vision. Flickers of light start to irritate his eyes. Small glitches cloud his thoughts. He considers consequences. He takes into account the timelines, the resets, the amount of pain Ink could endure before both their health bottomed out.

“I had... “ Error speaks slowly, unsure of the words he wants to deliver. Ashamed of admitting his own fault and owning up to such a mistake to his enemy. “ I had foolishly thought that the only way to get rid of you was to kill you.” He paces over the same eight tiles on the floor. Staring at the pattern of black and white, black and white. It was calming to him and the jitter in his eye lights slowly started to fade to normality.

“This … shared health issue… raises questions. Questions that I’d rather not find answers to. Like if one of us starves. Or if I kill you- will I also die? It's unfair… and so its fitting that whatever we do next will always revolve around these questions. I’ll continue to destroy Au’s… you’ll continue to protect the abominations… taking refugees to some part of the multiverse I don’t know about… sheltering them when you should be freeing them from their wretched life... “

“Life isn’t wretched!” Ink shouts out. “Those au’s are beautiful~ They deserve a chance to shine! To flourish and you should see that too! Error! We’re Au’s too! There is no script for us in the world of the originals we are just-”

“SHUT UP.” Error tightens his strings, now wrapping one around Inks' throat. It's effective, making the skeleton gag for shallow breaths of air. “I know we’re flaws. That's why I’ll kill us last. Someone has to clean up the multiverse. I’m not asking for your cooperation on this, Inky. I know you’re too stubborn to see my side of this. So I’m giving you a choice. Because the only other solution I can think of is abhorring to me. I hate pets. And I hate you. So here’s how it is...”

He turns on his heel and holds up a finger. “Condition one. You will tell me where you are hiding all those rejects you rescued from their crumbling worlds. Condition two.” He holds up another finger, making a small peace sign that was anything but friendly. Ink struggles against the silk of string. He makes small gurgling noises for air, stretching his spine out to seek to alleviate pressure on his throat. If he could he would stand but now his feet twitch aimlessly for a solid surface to stand on. The look pleases Error. It's befitting for Ink to dance for him while he preaches his plan.

“Condition two. You will go back to the void and never. NEVER interfere with my work. Agree to those terms and I’ll let you go.” Error bit his lip. He knew this wasn’t right. Ink would never agree to work with him, but giving up was difficult for the stubborn skeleton too. There was no way he could threaten Ink. He knew that. He knew this farce was just a play… a facade of power for Ink to give in.

And he hoped that would be enough. Because he really didn’t want to consider his second option. Something becoming more real as moments ticked away and Ink stubbornly shakes his head. Unwilling to give up the location of his rejects. Or maybe he was just losing consciousness? To make sure, Error slacked the rope, awaiting Ink to catch his breath and speak.

“... I … (huff).. .I won't. Turn … in my friends. ( huff) “ Ink tries to yank against the restraints. “You can’t ( huff) ...kill me, Error. We have to stahp ...fighting like this. It’s pointless.I know you’re bluffing. I know you hate me… but you’re good inside. You were able to heal me. That's proof that even you can chan-”

“ENOUGH! YOU think I’m BLUFFING?! YOU think I CANT KILL you NOW!? You’re WRONG!”

But he’s right. Error is playing with a blank set of dice. But… he knows he has a plan B. He didn’t want to act friendly with Ink. He didn’t like this invisible barrier preventing his future plans. Ink was a problem and while the coward wasn’t running he had to solve this once and for all.

If Ink didn’t take his bluff, he would maim him.


	3. Training

The ropes only tighten the longer Ink stays quiet, each strand pulls against his vertebrae with the strength to crack the bone. Skeletons didn’t need air, but the sensation of strangling transmuted well enough through their senses. Ink was gasping like a fish, black spots faded in and out of his vision, but he still wouldn’t say a word about his friends. Loyal to the end, he wouldn’t betray the Au he spent years trying to protect.

It infuriated Error, especially now. A couple hours ago he wouldn’t have batted an eye to hurt the rainbow piece of shit. Now, Error is cautious of hurting him- every dip in Hp only came back to hurt himself. This was unfair and unfruitful, Ink was about to lose consciousness without so much as a murmur of where the rejects were.

So Edge drops him. His strings vanish all at once, making Ink fall to the ground with a hard plop. “Fine then… we have no choice but to go with plan B… “ He says to himself. He turns his back on Ink and tries to think of the best way to do this. “Yes… I could begin with legs. Those are useless. Only good for running.” He’d rationalize a lot of things this way by talking to himself, it was pretty common while he was alone in the void. But at the moment all his thoughts keep being interrupted by coughing as Ink struggles to breathe again. “I should definitely gag him… “

He spins back around, just in time to watch Ink trying to use his spittle as a base for the colors on his belt. “tsk… you don’t need that anymore!” Error stabs through the utility belt with his strings. The yarn is as hard as wire when he directs it to attack. The blue string slices through the leather pouch and through Inks foot. The skeleton makes a small open mouth gasp in pain.

“I came up with a great idea, Inky.” Error hums. He bends down to Inks level to see the fear in his eyes, watching as shapes and colors flicker between each iris. “You’re going to be my pet for a while. At least… until I figure out a safe way to kill you, HA.”

With a snap of his fingers, a glitched static portal opens up beneath them. It leads to his part of the void, of course, but Ink had never gone through this end. He tries to fight back as the pit swallows him up, first taking his arms and legs and submerging him into the black tar-like portal.

He doesn’t sink far. On the opposite end of it, he’s dumped back out into the white patch of void home. Unsettling and empty… Ink hisses as he slams against the ground. He’s been through much worse pain, he wouldn’t give Error the satisfaction of his screams. There was still a way out of this, or so he believed. Sure, Error wasn’t the best person to talk out of violence, and maybe the ‘goodness’ in his heart was something buried deeper than words could reach, but Ink still had to try.

“Error, you have to let me go. There’s a balance in the world. Au’s disappear on their own with time… if you keep destroying them then- aAAACk!!!!!!!!” The string piercing his leg begins to move back and forth, hacksawing through his bone. Ink bites down on his scarf and begs for it to stop.

With a tap of his foot Error keeps the beat with the symphony of screams. Music to his ears. “You really do have a nice scream, Inky.” He purrs. Ink claws at the floor, trying to crawl away from the magic yarn cutting through his tibia. Each pass through marrow makes his health drop by the dozen. Error grunts out a sigh and stops.

If he wanted this done right, he’d have to make sure that health stayed in the double digits.

He stomps towards the crying and whimpering Ink and kicks his copy over. He sits on Inks' stomach, pinning both arms beneath him so he can’t fight. A hiccup passes Inks lips, he begs again for Error to stop. “Stay still, or it won’t be a clean cut!” Error teases. “Then we’ll have to start all over again…” Ink closes his eyes tight, throwing his head back in a silent scream as pain wracks up his femurs and though his spine.

“AAAA- STOPPP!!!!”

Punches and snapping bone was one thing, sawing through marrow was another. He’d never experienced a pain like this, every nerve ending through his magic sputtered in pain with pure agony. Even being beat an inch to his last digit of health was less torturous than the saw inching its way through his leg.

“NO! SSTTP-!!”Ink whines through his tears. “Sttttp!!!! –Gah!!!”

“Open wide, Inky.” He laughs, smashing a piece of cake against his face. If the other wouldn’t eat anymore he would force him to eat! It brought up his health just enough for Error to continue sawing.  
At one point Ink blacks out from the pain but Error is quick to smack him back to reality, patting his cheek to wake him and jump-start the terror throughout his senses. Error force feeds him more, his ecto stomach reacts with the excess of food, starting to bulge outward with nowhere to go since Error sat on his tummy.

“n-no. No morr….”

He vomits upon his own face, feeling like he is drowning in his own puke but Error feeds him more- intent on forcing his stats to remain stable while this torture continues.

“StAhP!!!” Ink begs. “PLeees!?” Tears stream from his empty eye sockets and he feels so full that he might burst. He’s surprised when Error finally listens. The twin steps over his distended ecto stomach with a smirk and says okay. And for a moment Ink is genuinely confused, like – what? Was please the magic word??? Error didn’t stop the first 50 times he begged, so why now-

“One down… one to go. “ Error hums. “we’ll do the next tomorrow.” And he throws the stub of a leg at Ink. Out of reflex, he catches it. Only recognizing his own foot when his eyes blearily clear from the waterworks. He screams when he sees it, dropping the foot and vomiting again, the thick viscous liquid seeps to the nape of his neck. Painting the floor in its sickly smell.

… wait. Yes, painting.

Ink can barely comprehend staying awake right now, but somehow the idea of escape registers. He can paint with his vomit. Just enough to make a portal somewhere. Somewhere safe. Underswap? Maybe… Yes. Blueberry can help. Monsters with love and kindness could heal him!

Ink stutters a breath, aching his ribs and newly round tummy. He tries to roll to his side to paint, dipping a finger in the foul stickiness of his stomach fluids. It didn’t work as well as Ink… but a portal forms through his touch. He gets to his arms and starts to crawl towards it. Crawl towards help-

“Oh. No, you don’t.” Error chides. He grabs Ink by his ankle and pulls him backwards, streaking vomit across the white landscape below him. “…I forgot restoring health would restore your magic too...” Error hums, “guess I should have removed your soul instead of your leg.”

Wha-?! Ink arches backward, trying to escape from this maniacs grasp as he’s wrestled and pinned down to the floor again. Error's weight pushes the digesting food through his trachea, making him gag as his soul is unwillingly removed and fondled from his rib cage. Ink garbles on spit up food, begging through a mouthful of regurgitate for Error to stop.

Error raises a bone brow, loving the confidence returning to him from being in control once again. He’d lost it for a while back there, unsure how to keep Ink alive without hurting himself but now it all seemed too clear.

He rubs a green patch of magic into the soul, weaving his happy murderous intentions through the healing magic to make it extra potent. It doesn’t heal Inks leg, nor stop his sniveling. He felt so cold without his soul… so empty. But surely his health rises, much faster than the force-feeding his double food.

Like Ink said, he was a natural healer. Error smirked. This was going to make their playtime very interesting…


	4. Sharing our lv~♥

Normally the void he resided in was quiet, peterped only by his own breathing and the needlework he sometimes took part in, but for the past dozen hours screams had echoed across its near infinite walls. The shrill screaming was pleasant at first; a beautiful cocoughphony of pain that Error relished in. He’d gone from world to world hearing the same desperate struggle of spit and blood gurgling in the throat, the same tearful begging and raspy screaming that made monsters lose their will to stop fighting… but this was the first time he’d been bored by the sound.

Ink’s screaming lost the potency of endurance they once had~ and after rounding out the nubs of what was left of his legs -burning the wounds closed and disinfecting with a bucket full of alcohol~ Ink had finally lost the will to scream. He threw back his head and fought himself from passing out. His eyelights that would normally dance with a variety of colorful shapes had stabilized to white pin pricks of magic that couldn’t focus on anything. Ink stared out at the sky, mouth agape in a silent scream, drool dripping down his chin, tears pooling in his skull. 

At long last silence fell. 

Error sat on his hammock of strings and weaved more of his healing magic into the glass ornament of a heart. It was becoming second nature to him to fill Inky’s soul with the green hues of healing magic. Naturally gifted with healing for some odd reason, Error hummed sadistic pleasures throughout the organ to keep Ink nice and ‘healthy’. Meanwhile, said skeleton lied on the floor splattered by his own blood, vomit, snot, and tears, far from the picture of health. 

Not that Error cared. As long as Ink’s health sat above 100, then his own health would reflect that. 

His new pet was behaving quite nicely. Having lost his voice and his will to fight back. 

It was time to exercise his new found freedom from Inky. Error hummed in his throat, and squeezed the soul gently. If Ink’s life and his were intertwined… he had nothing to fear from his indisposed counterpart. There was literally nothing to stop him anymore from destroying worlds freely. 

He smirked. Wow, there was so much work to catch up on and Error was bored of his new plaything. Where should he go first? Would Ink care to stop him? Would he even be able too? 

“I’m bored, Inky.♫” 

Error jumped to his feet and paced over the cacophony of colors on the floor- vomit, piss, blood, marrow, drool, tears, snot, - Stars it was beautiful what a mess Inky had become in the span of a few hours. He didn’t think the perky happy freak could cry so wonderfully. It made him curious how much he could ruin the other. 

“Want to come with me to an au?” Ink couldn’t even respond. Somewhere in the skeletons skull he was fighting just to not pass out. Error tut his teeth together, he wanted a better reaction than that. He kicked the nub of a leg Ink was left with, watching as the silent scream rumbled through Inks ribcage and shook him. The broken hero. 

“Come on Ink- Stand up for yourself.” HA. Error let a grin fall on his face. Loving puns was a default from the original, Error hated having such a trait but he couldn’t resist when the opportunity came up to tease the crippe.

“Let's take a walk, bud. For real. I ain't pulling your leg.” Ink’s head fell back and he gurgled spittle in his throat. “Well… nothing to pull anyway.” 

Error purred, he kicked Ink again for good measure watching the O shape slip from Inks mouth, eyes rolling up. “You’re going to come with me whether you like it or not.” He chuckles, throwing the soul up in the air and catching it. It was a plaything to taunt him with after all. “Legs go.”

He bent down and gripped Ink by the rib, pulling up with a groan and slumping the breathless skeleton over his shoulder. Ink gaped like a fish. Gasping for a breath that wouldn’t come but it hardly mattered, skeletons didn’t need air to breath, and Error was already opening a portal to one of his most hated aus. 

The chilling Snowdin air greeted them when Error first arrived. Unceremoniously, he dropped the dead weight as soon as he arrived, letting Ink chill off in a snow poff. 

A loud inhale passed through Errors teeth, He whistled in the newfound chill that overtook his bones. The fresh breath of relief… an untainted, live, world for him to torment. Laughter from children. Temmies dancing in the forest. Giftmas presents being exchanged… idle chatter, joyous in tone filled the streets. 

Error rolled a heavy sigh, opening his eyes to dishearteningly see the monstrosities that mimicked the original. It’s residents were all monsters with 1 hit point. It was almost too perfect. 

“Ink- Ink ! ARe you looking?!” Error laughed. His eyes glossed over with a hiccup of glee that corrupted him for a moment. “It's a world without fighting… isn’t that sweet? ISN'T THAT SWEET? ??” He kicked Ink over… needing the others banter to feel validated but the skeleton couldn’t offer even a word of grief. 

Whatever. Error needed an outlet for his frustration. 

He strode forward, confidently knocking into every monster that passed him on the street. Someone even had the nerve to tell him good morning. “GOOD MORNING!”The resident, a small bunny resembling the inn owner held their hand out to meet him. “Haven’t seen you around here, stranger. Are you new to Snowdin?”

Error giggled gleefully. He loved the innocently naive ones. Lines of code started twitching at his shoulder blades as he all too eagerly drew his arm up and shook the monsters hand. “Im Error.” He chirped. “And I’m going to kill you all.” In a moment of precise magic manipulation Error was pushing his threads from his fingertips, flaunting them out for the monster to curiously gaze at. Error gripped the bunny monsters hand tightly, not letting them go as his magic twisted it's way inside the furry paw he was shaking. 

Curious they misheard him, the bunny was about to ask again, their head turning in question- leaning in closer as if the answer was hard to hear. It was too late for them to pull back- string shot out from Error’s control- impaling them through their hand all the way up their arm and through the back of their ugly bunny head. The monster didn’t even have a chance to react before thorns spread out from the single vein of string- protruding in every direction until the monster transformed into a fucking porcupine. 

Error let go of the still shaking hand and blew against the monster- knocking them over in an instant. The cracking of a soul sounded loud in the peaceful streets. And the monster was dust before he even hit the ground. 

Suddenly movement in the market stopped. All eyes turned to the pile of dust lying in the snow. And the still grinning monster~ eyes aglow with an excitement. turning that resident into a shish kabob was an execution too showy for his style... 

...but it was perfect to instill panic. 

A single scream pierced through the crowd and drove passerbyers to suddenly take action. Running and screaming and hiding… the crowded marketplace suddenly became a funnel to run from Error. Stalles were knocked over and groceries abandoned. 

He wanted to chase them. He twitched with the desire to see the hope and love drain from their faces as he murdered their loved ones, one by one. He held his shoulders, trembling in anticipation. Wanting that color of blood mixed mud to be left squishing between his toes. But first… he spared a glance at his nemesis. 

“Can’t stand up against me? Not like you’ll defeet me. Heh! I’ll cut off the leg puns~ oh wait… I already did!!” 

He laughed… but the empty expression on Ink’s face sapped the fun out of teasing him. He boorishly turned away from Ink. He’d have fun elsewhere. 

~~~  
Ink didn’t know how many times he’d heard screaming silenced- children crying- adults whimpering to hold back their hiccups, desperate to make as little sound as possible. It didn’t matter. One by one… Error found them and slaughtered them. He couldn’t do a single thing about it. 

Ink pounded his weak fist into the snow. Even with his health sitting high in the triple digits he was mentally and physically fatigued. He couldn’t even stand. He had no way to fight back. Everything was … hopeless. What kind of creator would allow this to happen? 

Was ‘evil’ really the force that won out in the end? What about perseverance? Determination? Hope? Love..?

If he could just save one person… there was still a chance this world could be rebuilt. A creators dreams wouldn’t be dashed if they had one character they could cling onto. Ink looked around, lolling his head left and right to look for someone. Anyone to save. He couldn’t use his magic without his soul… but that wouldn’t matter. He’d use his body as a shield if he had too! Error wouldn’t win! Error… couldn't win. 

It was wrong. It was horrible… what kind of creator would allow the destruction of countless world… thousands of hours… wasted- tossed in the trash by a fickle decision to stop. 

Ink’s head fell backwards and he looked up at the cave ceiling… trapping everyone inside. Nowhere to run. No way to fight back… 

Slowly his vision started fading. He’d been straining against himself to stay awake during his torture but now the lul of silenced screaming filled his surroundings with a quiet that made him feel like here was safe… Even if he knew the horrors going on in the underground. Here in this pile of snow… Error wasn’t going to bother him. He wasn’t going to break any of his bones. He wasn’t going to tease him and punish him. 

It felt extremely selfish… but Ink gave into the tiredness and blacked out. 

…

It was hours later when he woke, hearing the heavy crunch of footsteps march up to him. A prideful trample that skeeted towards him, stopped and kneeled over with the same sing song voice Ink learned to hate. 

“Heeey Inky♫ , guess what this is. Guess. Guess.”

That repulsive positivity was just a lure. Ink knew it was nothing good… but he tilted his chin upwards and looked anyway. A tiny soul fluttered wildly in Errors bloodied palm. Too small to be an adult… or a child. Error held the fledgling souling that belonged to a pregnant monster. It was ripped from some monsters insides. 

“Won't last long without a mother. Isn’t it pretty?” Error grinned widely, he had a streak of blood on his cheek. “I don't even have to kill this one. It will die on it's own in a couple minutes.” The meniachle monster sat down in the snow with Ink. “It's the last one in this world… you’ve never stayed to watch an au be destroyed, right? Let’s stick around and watch this one be destroyed together. It will be fun. Just the two of us… in the end of the world. HEh.”

He opened Inks palm and slapped the heart between their enclosed fingers- splattering the magic between their hands like a fly. 

Ink’s eye twitched… he gained a level. 

“Wow… instantly healed both of us up.” Error breathed. He sat back on his heels and stared outward at the village. “Snowdin is pretty boring to be stuck in at the end… we still have some time.” Webbings from his fingertips gripped Ink from under his arms and slung him around for Error to drag around the underground. Snow filled his sweater as Ink was drug through the snow banks… but he hardly felt the abrasion of snow on his numb fingertips- smeared with a child's soul. Ink hated himself right now. Everything Error did only caused corruption… 

He was dragged through the city center. Eerily quiet crunching of snow was the only thing left in the world. As if all music had stopped. 

He was dragged through waterfall- rocks scratching up his bones as Error thoughtlessly dragged him through the mud. 

Eventually they stopped and Ink was dropped again. The glorious throne room - shadowed in arcs of orange light and yellow flowers. Many versions of Sans died here. Few were able to stand by their Papyrus as a new era of kings was made. It was fitting that Error would choose this place… to view the last shreds of life from this world. 

Nothing changed from their surroundings, now that the last living resident was dead in this world. Ink expected a world would just… blip out of existence but that didn’t seem to be the case. 

Slowly there became evidence this world was being destroyed. It began with small irregularities.Ink thought his eyes were playing tricks on him when his field of view got smaller and smaller. The flowers in the garden looked fuzzy… like they were filmed in some poor quality undernet video… but just as he peered into the row of flowerbeds the illusion fixed itself. 

“Isn’t it wonderful? Natural chaos… Like a buffer setting… for life.” Error cackled and as he did the world crackled in unison. The world began to render in and out of focus… becoming blobs of color at times. The streams of light from the window suddenly shut off and turned back on again… as if this reality itself was becoming too difficult to power. 

Ink opened his mouth with the intent of speaking, but no words came out. He gaped like a fish while a coarse sound like a whistle in a flute escaped his throat. He needed to leave. He needed to get out of here. Something was clearly happening to this world… it wasn’t just being destroyed, it's data was being corrupted. Nothing remained of it's initial residents… it couldn’t sustain itself when there wasn’t an ounce of magic, love, hope, or determination keeping this universe stable. 

“We did this…” Error hummed. “You killed the last thing here with me… isn’t it great you got to be part of it?” There was a sick truth in his words that Ink wasn’t quite ready to hear. The goop of the infant soul was still staining his bones… he didn’t mean to kill it. It was Errors fault! But that hardly mattered… it was in his hands - and he failed to protect it. Because he failed… Error was able to smash it into oblivion.

It was his fault. Ink teared up. 

This world was dying because Ink wasn’t strong enough to protect it. … because Error won. There wasn’t anything he could do anymore. WIthout his paintbrush… without his magic… without his legs…. What was he? He couldn’t even protect one soul!... Ink sobbed, the sound came out in silent puffs. His chest rose and fell rapidly, about to fall unconscious again but Errors voice kept him anchored to this place. 

“It's beginning... “ The world started to quake from underneath them. The low rumble could be mistaken for hunger or breathing… that's what this seemed to be. The world was breathing… shuddering it's last breath as things began to expand and contract. The walls of the castle began to quiver and collapse… bricks moving unevenly from their mortar. 

And in the midst of it… a single black bolt of electricity. Ink jumped in place, Errors heavy hand was already pushing him back down, forcing him to sit here and watch as the odd lightning bolt sucked in the light of everything around it. Like a black hole of electricity… the light around it warped and faded to a single point. 

It was the first sound effect he’d heard since the underground had gone quiet. It had friends that spread out from it's infectious singe. Black censor bars appeared around everything it corrupted. Flavor text for common items became garbled messages of text and black misaligned boxes that hung brokenly in the air. It looked like the black bars that hung around Error when he got a glitch. 

Ink felt slightly comforted by identifying the foreign element. … He knew Errors glitches were a self contained virus. It couldn’t spread to Ink. Could it? Error was already a mass of glitches… he probably wasn’t affected by the corrosion. Ink felt the need to speak up and leave. He really really didn’t want to be here. What if he fell down? What if he got corrupted too???

“Hhhhhhhhnaaa” His wheezy voice couldn’t manage even syllables to sound a word. His chest felt compressed and his head immediately felt dizzy from the lack of air. 

“Shhh Inky.” 

The black spots spread, not spots at all but a break in what was the kingdom. Each black bar.- actually a window to something behind the castle walls. Ink peered out… like this reality was nothing more than a cardboard cutout… and beyond it was a valley of darkness. “That's the void.” Error purred. “Beautiful nothingness…” 

In a couple minutes the cracks of this world had fully chipped away to reveal nothing else but the ever present omnidirectional black pit of void. Ink felt nauseous in it… he had no clue if he was standing or sitting at this point. All light was consumed… including light from Error. The skeleton didn’t even appear by his side anymore. The only thing that indicated his presence was the heavy hand shoving him to sit on the floor until this scene completely became enguld in the tar like emptiness. 

“Perfect…” 

Ink had never heard so much honest praise from Error. He described this place like a well known lover… beautiful.. Perfect… wonderful… 

Sharing this with his arch enemy was one of the rarest kindness’s Error would ever show. There was pride in a job well done… an entire universe destroyed by his hand. 

Well - not just his hand. 

Ink sobbed openly-- fat rolls of tears pooling in his inner skull. Not that Error could see… or would even care. Eventually, when Error felt it was time to return, they went back to their own lack of a universe. 

“You did so well for your first murder.” Error grinned widely. “Maybe you’re a natural.” 

Ink sobbed again, chest shuddering from the ongoing panic attack that he couldn’t vocalize. He needed to scream. He needed to cry. He wanted to do something to save the people he already knew were dust…

His soul was rolled over between a thumb and forefinger… Error was admiring his handy work~ staining this innocent monsters hands. Inks Lvl had raised and Error contemplated the possibilities this had. He could raise his own stats through Ink. He’d long reached the point where grinding for the next level up was tiresome. He could destroy six au’s and barely get half a bar of exp. With Ink by his side…. 

Suddenly the soul quaked and Ink curled up on the floor, hands fleeing to his pelvis. Error raised a bony brow. His red eyes stared over at Ink, unabashedly rubbing the spot again and again to see if it would produce the same result. 

It did. 

Error sunk to his knees in front of Ink. “Does this fucking excite you?” He laughed, taunting the spot again with a rough stroke of his fingers. Ink shook his head violently, denying what was obviously a sensitive response to his soul being prodded. 

Gloved hands reached out for Ink’s thighs, spreading the nubs to seat himself between the stumps until his pants rubbed the front of Inks baggy shorts. “Well since you're in the mood… let's have a little more fun -Inky. ♫”


	5. Destruction and Corruption

There were a lot of things Error couldn’t really do when he was all alone. Sex, for example, was an act that involved two partners. Though they didn’t necessarily have to be willing.

Sure, he had plenty of opportunity to try with all the helpless, screaming, and vulnerable monsters he’d encountered. Alas, Error only ever got turned on from their screams. There was a thrill of excitement that came from killing and torturing...but there was never anything about a monster’s physical appearance that made Error want to take advantage of them.

Until Inky.

His voice is too broken from screaming so Error didn't have the pleasure of hearing his cries. The ‘stop’, ‘no’, ‘please’- were just empty sounded mouthing gasps that Error couldn’t get off on. But Ink’s crying face was beautiful, scrunched up eyes closed in fear and mouth moving ~ whispering, praying, begging silent words.

When he touched his rainbow translucent soul, not with healing magic, but the gentle rubbing with his thumb and forefinger it made Ink jump with a horrified pleasure. Effectively pinned between the heat of a body and the floor, there was nowhere to escape. The skeleton jerked involuntarily and fidgeted with the slightest rut of hips.

Every attempt to scramble away was short-lived, when Error had a firm grip on his amputated leg, squeezing gently with the threat of pain if Ink tries to get away. “Like it?” Error hummed. The fact that Ink had stopped squirming didn’t mean he had consented. He shook his head no again and again. Tears brimming in his eyes.

“Well… that can be fixed.” He strokes over the hem of Inks shorts, the bulge caused by his ecto body reacting to the sensation. Magic fills in his clothes and spreads to the edge of his femurs, giving Error something squishy to grip as he lets go of the stubs and encircles Inks hip. 

He cradles Ink to his body and molds him to be his perfect mate. Despite how Ink thrashes at first, the colorful skeleton starts to give into the sweet sensation of release. The pleasure of sex was the first kindness he’d gotten from Error. He relished in the tender massages on his hips, the slow and thick pulse inside him. The warmth and wetness filling his passage and Error’s musk enveloping him.

Every time their bodies meet Ink convulses with a desperate need to feel more. When he comes, Error doesn’t even give him a chance to relax. His mind starts to feel numb and he drools, open-mouthed, panting soft aahs- awaas. Words are beyond him by the time Error releases inside and presses their sweaty bodies flush together. Ink throws his head back, squeezing down on the thick girth inside him and comes again.

But Errors not done. As Ink is bough to the edge for the umpteenth time, forced to feel pleasure for something so horrible, a wretched thought slips through his mind that this is somehow better.

Better than the abuse that would come to him if he didn’t otherwise give in. Better than losing more limbs, because Error wouldn’t just stop at legs, he’d take his arms if he knew that Ink could crawl away. Better than Error healing him because he only healed him so they could ‘play more’. Hours and hours of endless torture, pointless.

And part of him felt this was better for other au's. Keeping Error here, meant that countless au’s were spared from Errors boredom.

It didn’t help that it felt … good. 

Small hearts took shape in his eye lights, tongue dangling like a bitch in heat. Error smacked their hips together with a wet slap and it felt so complete. So full. His girth had driven a space inside of Ink that felt weird and empty without something filling it. What was life even like before Error drilled him open? Was there ever a time his legs were not spread open like this?

He faded in and out of consciousness, waking up to the grunts and groans Error made while he used his body. Pressing shaking bones hard to the floor. The darker copy had never known copulation could feel so amazing, sharing an experience like this was mind-numbing.

Eventually, Error met the end of his exhausting stamina, slumping heavily on Ink with a moan. Spurting inside him again, to the weak quivers and pulse of Ink’s abused ecto flesh. Ink nearly choked on his own spittle when Errors weight came bearing down on his broken ribs. Agitating the two-day-old injuries with searing spikes of pain running up his spine. Although healed over with fresh scabs, the bones had yet to set in place.

But it didn’t matter. He couldn’t use his voice to protest and a moment later snores brushed by his throat. Error was fast asleep. Too spent to do anything even if Ink did find some way to complain.

Giving into fatigue and the euphoria clouding his mind, Ink quickly knocked out again to that dark place of no dreams. His body felt completely wrecked, unable to even process the numbing weight on him until it was gone.

Hours later, Ink woke in complete blankness. He despised the decluttered void. He looked around himself, racing to find something vivid and colorful to focus his eyes on~ settling for the blue strings that Error marked the corners of this small canvas with. It helped Ink relax, seeing the bright blue spot of color. Almost made him feel better that Error was around.

But Error wasn’t around.

Ink rolled over onto his tummy, a trickle of viscous liquid ran between his pudgy thighs as he did so, and looked around for Error. There wasn’t much to look for. A small hammock of strings that served as a bed. A stack of wrappers and trash that formed a little mountain. Dolls and sewing materials in a corner. Hanging souls from the ceiling. Error wasn’t here.

He tried to dismiss his magic, but he couldn’t. Whether that was because Error had his soul or something else… Ink wasn’t quite sure. He just knew he should sit and wait for Error to get back. If he tried to crawl away… he wouldn’t get far. He’d go cower in his corner of the void and do nothing but wait for Error to teleport and come to get him back. Without his magic, everything felt pointless.

He lied on his side, useless. Waiting for Error to get back to rape him. To hold him. To taunt him with how many au’s he easily slaughtered. Weeks went by the same way. Error was entertained enough by just having a warm body to sleep against. And if Ink didn’t fight… there was no reason to hurt him anymore. That's what he begged for. That's what he hoped for. 

Ink hadn’t spoken in all that time. He didn’t know if his voice returned or not… but speaking out against Error was a bad thing. Right now, Error was content enough to talk to himself back and forth. Any talk about mercy or the right thing to do would more than likely send him into a blind rage.

Nights were spent on the floor, the same place he ate and fucked. Error would tire of a normal position and fold his body in shapes to bury his bone deeper. He’d tire out and sleep on top of Ink or with Ink in his arms, something that should be a loving act and yet it was another chain keeping Ink prisoner here.

He hadn’t seen his soul. He knew Error had it somewhere, but it had been a mystery where. Once he thought it might be part of the decoration of souls hanging from the ceiling but he couldn’t spot it among the countless 'trophies' collected. It left him feeling inadequate at his failure to protect the different worlds. And now that he had stopped doing his job, Error was having an easier time accumulating these prizes. He’d string more up each day.

The soul shapes on the ceiling weren't resident monsters…. Their individual worlds couldn’t crumble to nothingness if a monster was left behind. These souls belonged to the corrupted nonsense of code left behind. After a successful wipeout, Error would take these script errors and hang them up. Each one was made by the deaths of hundreds.

Ink stopped counting.  
He tried not to look.  
He'd let down so many.  
He wasn't a protector of people.  
He couldn't even protect himself!

And Error would come back soon…

 

That thought should have made him terrified of the butcher who would be back at any moment but it didn't. Not at all. Was it weird he actually ...hoped Error would come back soon?

Error always left him alone during the day. Ink wouldn’t move from where they last fucked. He’d lie in a puddle of their sex and wait for Error to get back. He’d hug his arms close to himself and give up.

How long had he been here? How much longer was this going to last? He didn't fight back. He couldn't. He's already lost everything. Waiting for Error was all he had now.

Maybe it became obvious Ink was getting depressed and bored waiting because the very next day Error started to bring him along on some of his outings. 

At first, Error would drag him by strings or drop him from portal to portal but Error found fun in pinning Ink against the wall and parading the savior of au's naked through a crowd full of terrifying monsters trying to flee.

Error looked so amazing. Covered in blood. His eyes aglow with such passion for the craft of murder. Ink nuzzled into his chest, trying to ignore the screams. Trying to ignore what he knew was really going on. Because Error was holding him so tenderly, so lovingly. Maybe like this … they were a real couple.

He learned to love being carried everywhere.

Once… Was it hours ago? Weeks ago? Error had taken him to the hot springs of some world and dropped him in the water. It was terrifying at first. Ink kicked his legs- but couldn’t get any traction with the shortened limbs to stay afloat. But Error came and rescued him, laughing while pulling him up with strings. Saying he caught a big fish but Ink hardly cared, Error saved him. It didn’t matter that Error pushed him in to begin with.

Soaking in those springs was nice. He clung to the rim of rock and let Error fuck him against the boulders. The small abrasions on his palms were nothing compared to the pleasure of Errors cock hammering away at him. He could live for this. Die for this. His body was already used to opening his legs for the other. He was already used to Error’s rhythm and stamina. He tried his best to ride out each crashing orgasm. Almost passing out from the heat of the water and his own internal temperature rising.

Error massaged his bones and cleaned him of their lovemaking. Wrapped him in towels and blankets that Ink got to keep once they got back to the void. And that became his bed. That became his place on the floor that belonged to him and it was so nice to have something that belonged to him. When Error left him alone in the mornings he no longer felt cold or uncomfortable on the floor, his throne of pillows and blankets started to get bigger - Error bringing him more presents.

He could get used to this life. Being Errors.

…. That is. Until reality broke and Ink woke to the nauseous confusion of the +1 fluttering in his ribcage. 

Ink didn’t know what to make of it.

What was it? It was so weird to see a decorative heart not hanging from the ceiling strings. Why was a heart in his chest anyway? That was such a foreign thing to him. By the time the thought finally cut through his sub lust foggy mind Error was back and Ink had to hide the soul until he could be alone and focus on it again.

He greeted Error with open arms and couldn't help the twitch on his mouth when his lover came closer. Enveloping him in the perfume of dust and blood from work. He had a short moment to consider what it could be.

Was that his own soul? Did error give him back his soul?

Neither of those seemed likely.

He gasped and threw back his head, moaning silently as Error entered his aching body. They’d gotten really intimate the more they did this. Ribs pressed against ribs and teeth on collars. Error liked to bite a little to make him bleed. Ink didn’t mind the bright color. They were like rose petals on his skin, uniquely made by and for Error. He needed it, craved it. He twitched eagerly when teeth scraped up against his sternum.

But whose soul was that?

He just couldn't focus on this pleasure right now. He couldn't focus on this soul investigation either, not when each time a ragged thrust made him see stars.

The +1 tiny soul. It wasn’t his. No? Error had his soul, safe.

Ink's soul was a myriad of colors. Like the slosh of liquid in his ecto tummy, his soul was a mix of colors just like that. So whose was that tiny soul he saw?

Ink almost felt like asking Error. But he hadn’t spoken in such a long time. His voice cracked with a mewl and hungrily Error swallowed that moan. Such a long time in silence and hearing the feedback was godly.

Errors pace sped up fervently, trying to elicit that sweet sound again. And now that the damn broken on silence, Ink was using every vowel he could to enunciate the gross pleasure taking up his mind. "Aaaa aaah ! iiiiiiieeee!! ooooh!!! Uuuwwaaaa!!” Words were a leap away from anything he could manage. And something told him, it was better to keep this soul a secret from Error.

But he couldn’t keep it a secret for long. Time went by… and the tiny flutter of a soul got bigger. From something that started off the size of a grape, it was now the size of his closed fist. Still smaller than what a soul would be if he held it in his hand, but grown enough to emit its own unique light and magic. Something Ink couldn’t hide.

A child.

Who would have thought that so much sex could produce something like that? But Ink shook that from his head. What would Error do if he knew? He’d been such a good boy for so long… he didn’t want to be hurt again. He didn’t want to challenge Error again. What if he cut his tongue for speaking? Moans were acceptable…. But he’d yet to try talking. Every time he thought about it a fear-tinged his bones.

He thought maybe he should ween conversation into bits and pieces of their daily activities. The easiest was when Error was pushing him down. Grinding their hips. Ink moaned his name softly. And when Error didn’t tighten his hands around his neck, Ink felt it was safe enough to call his name again. Groaning and grunts blot out what could be words of praise or encouragement. Ink shuts his eyes closed and leans against Error. And in return for this closeness, Error gives him the satisfaction he so desperately needs.

Talking didn’t matter.

This was his world.

...

 

“The hell is that?”

Ink internally flinched. He stopped breathing. Time seemed frozen.

“I said, what the hell is that?” Error repeated louder, waiting for a response. He’d long known Ink could talk back. He just didn’t care for his input until now, and it was wearing down his patience.

Ink choked on his own words, mouth opening and closing like a fish until a sound finally came out. “K-kid?”

Error reeled back in disgust at first. Curiosity next. He’d killed pregnant monsters before… but he didn’t imagine this was how a souling was created.

Created.

Error glitched at the thought. The black scrawl of text covered his eyelights and he scrunched his face in revolt.

Did he just… create something new? A new life? A child? Another fucking abomination? Text floated in his eye lights and he couldn’t focus on anything. All Error knew was one thing, destroy. So he made a decision. “I’ll get rid of it.”

Ink shook his head violently. He’d turn a blind eye to Error when he killed others…. But this was theirs! This was something he and Error made! He hadn’t been fully aware of it before, but this tiny souling was proof Error could change! Proof he could be better! He already showed so much love to him every day. Now, this was proof their love was real! “I want it!” Ink squealed. “I want to keep it! It's ours!”

“Be a good boy and stay still.” Errors hand bent to reach for the soul, but Ink wouldn’t let him. He grabbed the wrist and pushed hard against him, knocking Error back. He didn’t know he had that strength in him. For so long, he thought he was useless without his magic, he hadn’t tried to fight back. He’d forgotten he could.

But a simple shove wasn’t going to help him here. In fact, it only served to irritate Error even more. He drew back with a scowl and a closed fist, about to punch the everloving shit out of Inky. His precious little pet immediately flinched, afraid of the strike. Just the wind up was enough to send fear down his mates bones. Error snorted with a small laugh, lowering his fist.

This was a pathetic version of Ink. Oh, how the mighty hero had fallen.

Ink was always a coward. He’d run off, protecting his few little rejects here and there. He fought when he needed too and stood his ground most days. But when things got dire, he would always run to save his ass. Now he just flinches, ready to take a beating like the subservient little fuck Error trained into him.

But that was boring, wasn’t it?

Error traced his broken legs with a gentle caress, pressing skeletal kisses against his thigh. He’d done this. He claimed this. Ink was weak because he took his ability to run. He took his ability to fight. Error loved having the power over him. “Tell you what, sweetheart. I’ll let you keep it.”

Ink opened his eyes, still hunched and afraid of a hit that was never coming.“R-really?”  
He looked hopeful when he hears Error. His eyes glimmer with small timid stars that radiate beautifully. A shame Error couldn’t scoop out those eyes like with lesser fleshy monsters. “Really- really? I can keep it? It's okay?”

“... yup.” Error clicked his tongue against his teeth. One was a small price to pay. “But you have to do something for me Inky.” Ink nods his head, intently listening. He’s already given so much to Error. What more could he want? His loyalty? His body? His soul? His love? Everything was his already.

Error peels back, sitting up straight enough to almost look menacing. He lifts his shirt and sticks his hand in his ribs, retrieving Inks soul. Nested next to his own all this time, it bares a small black and blue hickey. Bruised like fruit, broken goods. Error strokes it between his thumb and forefinger affectionately.

“Take me to that world, the place you store your … mistakes. I’ll help you fix them. For good.”

“...mistakes?”

“Your little-protected abominations.” Error leans over him, delicately returning the soul to its owner and hovers a steady hand over the child. Ink stares down through his rib cage. An uncomfortable fullness fills his bones. After so long being empty, having his magic return, having his soul settle in place, felt so strange. “Take me to them.”

Whether or not there was any trust between the two, Error brokered a deal without waiting for an answer and returned the soul to its rightful place. It made no difference if Ink had his magic or not, he wasn’t perceived as a threat anymore. Just a pet to be used and manipulated. 

Ink clenches and unclenches his fingers, magic coursing through his system. The flexing helped to test how much he could summon to his palm. Months out of practice made the normally automatic function feel slow and sluggish. Ink tried really hard to will a shimmer of magic to his fingertips and at last happy with a result he was ready. He just had to make sure first. 

“I… help you fix my mistakes…. And i get to keep our mistake?”

Error nods. 

He could be lying… he could be telling the truth. Ink had no clue what to think about the poker face displayed in their agreement, he just knew this was his one chance to do right. To protect something! Unfortunately he’s unable to see the bigger picture when he chooses to save the unborn souling versus the hundreds of refugees. 

He swirls a finger in their mix of liquids splashed together against their bodies and uses it as a paint along his hands, drawing on the floor a circle that becomes clear and transparent. A portal opens up in the ground and Error all too eagerly presses his ugly face up against it, peering down at the collosal village of misshapen monsters all living in unity together. 

Gaster fusions drip along the street as they slide along. Chillby and Grillby hold hands and skip to the mall. Undyne and Temmie smooch under a giftmas tree. Asgore the size of a building cries that his wife left him, while an Alphys-like commander of the royal guard urges him to shut up nerd. Papyrus is bench pressing two moldsmalls, that kind of slip through his gloves each time he tries. Chara steals a coin from an amagalate and runs away snickering all the while at their so called evilness. Bara and bitties have their own roads to walk up and down without fear of getting stepped on. Worst of all…. Sans wears a reversible sweater with bone patterns on the inside and his own face on the zipper. 

The horror. The absolute tacky fashion choice is a horror. 

And yet, despite being faced with so many horrible tales, a smile twitched up on Errors face. He couldn’t help but bounce idly in place, an excitement filling him. His hands felt sweaty and shook in Inks. Why was he holding Inks hand? He pulled away, still shaking. This was too fucking good to be true. Was it his birthday?

“Are you happy Error?”

“...very.” 

Every last reject was cooped up like fish in a barrel in some artificial world. Jaw dropping as more and more filtered through his peripheral. The small portal window wasn’t enough, he was twitching for a fight and ready to go right now. 

… but what about his beloved Ink? Sweet… precious… corrupted Ink. 

Having his sweet babe level for him was nice and easy. A single murder by Inky could make them both level, even if Error had to farm for exp. It a quick easy boost. And now that Ink had his magic back, this was a good time to test his loyalty. 

“Want to come murder with me sweety?”

There was no hesitation, no confusion, no sense of self or doubt when Ink shook his head. Simply, he didn’t want to be alone. It also helped him to agree with Error completely, no matter what it was. 

\---

Error jumped down with a naked Ink in his arms. The busy plaza stopped. Seeing the return of Ink was supposed to be a joyous event, but the face that accompanied him gave even the most hardened monsters nightmares. 

Ink smiled, seeing his safe creations. His mistakes. His face cracked into a wider smile, an uncanny laugh wheezed its way out his mouth. He was protecting something after all. He clung close to Error with an arm round back his neck, but the other, his hand extended and pointed at the residents, summoning the most basic of bone attacks to spear a row of them dead. 

Ink heckled, staring at the dust that fell from the pikes jammed in the road. Error gave him a pat on the head, hiking their hips up further as sudden panic engulfed the street in the same way it always did. Some monsters ran, some monsters stood their ground. But no one could compare to the power couple that was watching each others backs. 

Error, with one hand holding Ink the other controlling and orchestrating a battle of strings and bones. Ink, hugging him, neck against the shoulder blade of his lover. He watched his back, his blind spots. One hand to hold Error, the other to murder the friends and family he’d collected. They were nothing . They were obstacles.

That's all. 

And when every last sound goes quiet…

And they are alone, huffing and puffing, out of breath, licking their injuries, covered in wounds from a good fight put up by the few warriors here, They look at each other, health near the single digits like when they had first known they were soul mates. Suddenly passionate. Error bends forward and kisses him so deeply. 

Their first kiss. 

The rainbow sherbert tongue darts back and forth to cross the gap, timid and yet so eager for something more. Tasting so sweet, Errors blue tongue pushes back. His teeth bare down on the small organ, biting and scraping over his own tongue, asking for more, desperate for sweet friction and lavishing kisses. 

Stars he loved this mess. Stars he loved Ink. His perfect little pet. 

He took Ink again in the middle of the crumbling cities- pushing his mate down to the cobbled streets and spreading those chubby legs that snapped automatically at his hips and waited to be pierced. 

The world glitched and faded around their love making. The lubrication of sweat and blood, not theirs, making the lewd act so much easier. 

Everything is destroyed. Years of work… gone in an instant.

A sobering reality hits Ink hard all at once. He’d killed everyone. Tears stream down his face as Error claims his mouth again. Moaning against him, feeling his ecto flesh come to life with renewed magic. Squishy and round, claws scrape at the flesh. 

“I knew you were perfect.” Error hums, licking and nibbling at anything within his reach. “We’ll keep killing every last abomination… until we’re the last ones left Ink. You did so good… you fought so beautifully.” 

Heavy globs of tears ran down Inks face. What had he done? Wasn’t he supposed to protect? Not kill? He just destroyed an entire au. One that he made to protect monsters…. 

Together they did kill every last abomination. Errors words run hollow. Now they were the last ones left… Just like Error wanted. 

Ink flexed his fingers, materializing a femur right above where Error and him were fuckign into the patch of dirt that used to be the loading screen. They were at single digits. Together… this would take them out. Together. 

Ink laughed, crooked smile gasping with small moans as Error drilled into him. 

And the bone was dropped. 

It pierced through Errors spine and through Inks collar. Wide red pupils ocellated in confusion, pain. Error looked down at the spear through his chest, and at his love. Shocked by this betrayal. He only had a minute to ask “why…” before he coughed up blood on top of Ink and fell down. His dust settled over Ink, draping Errors ashes over the one thing he loved in this world. As per tradition. 

Ink closed his eyes. 

This was okay. He was ready to die. He’d done something horrible. He’d been a fool for so long. … Incapable of protecting anyone. Their souls were linked and now his lover was dead. Ink knew he was next. He felt his soul shudder and squeeze tight against the pain before it shriveled and cracked. Glass snapped and Ink stared up at the black void sky. The emptiness of a dead au…. 

 

….

 

… 

 

…

….

 

But he didn’t die. 

He waited for minutes for the impending death that loomed on the horizon, but nothing happened. His own soul was gone. Shattered. Ink stares down at his rib cage, confused as fuck. Wasn’t he supposed to go when Error died? That was the plan. To die together… why wasn’t he with Error!? Did he miss? ?? 

Ink is almost compelled to summon another bone attack and try again, when he sees the reason he is alive. 

The tiny… shimmering +1 in his chest. 

+1 more than Error had. When they reached zero together, this child kept Ink alive. It was alive. Something he protected…. Even if he had nothing left. Ink sat up and cradled the soul in his ribs, hugging dust to himself and crying. 

This wasn’t how it was supposed to be!! Everything was supposed to end! He held the soul in his hand. Error made him crush one before. He knew the sickening squelch between his fingers. He remembered it vividly. It would be easy. Like squishing a stress ball. 

But it was Errors. This was Errors child. What had he done??   
Ink sobbed. Hugging himself until the light faded from the destroyed au and a pale script came to coalesce into the shape of a soul. A trophy. Nothing more. 

Ink grabbed it and went back to his and Errors place, throwing it up to get tangled in the ceiling wires. And Ink stared at the large trophy collection on the ceiling. Errors life work. 

… For Error. He would continue that work.


End file.
